Jacob strode quickly across the campus to the third of the three buildings that centred around the Academy's main cul-de-sac. He'd never been in the guest residences before.

He was certain this was the right thing to do. Whatever the priest knew, he doubted he'd know that Laura Tannehill had been attacked outside on her way to Schumann Hall from the library. They'd only figured that out through the necromancy. He couldn't see how it might help narrow things down, but then again, he wasn't a detective or a professional vampire hunter.

Not yet, at least. He chuckled.

He once more debated telling Tanaka, but knew the transfer student would vehemently oppose telling the priest anything, and might even start a fight with Jacob. Jacob could tell the priest, leave Tanaka out of it, and take responsibility if the truth about their necromancy was discovered.

Jacob quickly crossed the rest of the distance to the guest residence building.

The receptionist at the front desk was a young redhead with glasses and dense freckles. She was reading a book. It took Jacob a second to recognize Sophia. Lucky.

"Sophia?" Jacob asked tentatively as he approached.

She looked up at him, vague recognition crossing her face. "Oh. You're the white mage. Jacob, right?"

"Yeah, that's me," He said.

"What can I do for you?" She asked, putting the book down and giving him a businesslike smile.

"Could you tell me what room the Brotherhood Priest is in?" Jacob asked.

The blood drained from Sophia's freckled face. "W- I don't know what you're talking about."

Jacob frowned. He debated giving up, but he was in too deep already.

"Look, Grace told me you saw him," Jacob said. "I know he's here."

Sophia sagged back in her chair, defeated. "Ooh, that little gossip! I'm gonna skin her alive! I knew that was a mistake," She put her head in her hands.

Jacob winced. "I'm not gonna tell anyone," He said. "And neither is Grace. But I have information that might help him with the vampire."

"I don't know..." Sophia groaned. "I'm not supposed to say anything, let alone let people up to see him!"

"Grace and Camilla can vouch for me," Jacob said.

Sophia narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine. But you can't tell anyone, understand?"

"Yes," Jacob said.

"If anyone asks, you never spoke to me."

"Not a word."

Sophia rifled through a spreadsheet on her computer. "He's in room 201."

"Thanks, I owe you one," Jacob said.

"Be quick," Sophia said. "That'll be enough."

Jacob left the lobby and hurried up the stairs. He was glad Sophia had trusted him. He'd been about to pull the 'tell me or else I'll tell that you told Grace' card out of desperation and was glad he hadn't had to resort to it. Christ, was this really worth it? Now he had to keep this a secret too. Sophia had likely just put her magical career in his hands, just as Tanaka had, in a way. It was all too much. Too many secrets and scheming and things weighing on his mind. One slip up and boom, catastrophe. Why couldn't things just be simple?

He reached the second floor and made his way down the sparsely furnished hall, counting the door numbers. The place felt deserted.

The door to room 201 looked like the rest: plain wood with a silver number on it and a peephole like in a hotel.

Jacob went to knock, then realized the door was slightly ajar.

He knocked anyway.

No answer.

"Hello?" He called, his voice half a whisper.

He glanced down the hallway but it was empty, silent. His gut stirred uneasily. Surely the priest wouldn't have left his door open if he was trying to hide, right?

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Jacob pushed the door open further. It creaked, making him wince. The room beyond was dim, the lights off. A navy blue carpet covered the floor and the walls were light beige and unadorned. A black cloak hung from a coatrack near the door and a pair of beat off brown dress shoes were pushed against the wall. Beyond this was a small sitting room slash foyer combo with two armchairs and a television up on the wall. It reminded him of a hotel room. Someone was staying here, but no one lived here.

"Hello?" Jacob ventured again, sure the priest must be here.

No answer.

He crept forward, not sensing any movement or hearing any creaks. There was a separation between the sitting room slash foyer and what looked like a much larger area, maybe a bedroom. He peered around it, too nervous to move further in without an invitation.

Jacob could see the corner of a bed. He inched a little closer. Dangling off the end of the bed was a bare foot, the skin horny and lined with age.

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"Alright," Jacob said. "I'm gonna go study. I'll catch you guys later."

He strode briskly off, hands jammed into his hoodie pockets.

Camilla shared a look with Grace. Behind them, Blake and Archie were going on about some niche tournament detail.

Camilla knew that look in Jacob's eyes. She'd seen it countless other times in other boys, had seen it in the fight with the rogue mage right before the end. That little set of their jaw. A tiny gleam in their eye.

"He's going to do something stupid," Grace said.

"I know," Camilla said.

"He was way too interested in that priest and Sophia," Grace said.

"I know," Camilla whispered. Did he think she was a fool? It was like boys never realized how easy they were to read. How visibly they wore their hearts on their sleeves. Before, she might have rolled her eyes, but Jacob had been oddly obsessed with the vampire and any information regarding it. Ooh, she just knew he was taking responsibility for it in some storm of self righteousness. He probably still blamed himself for Jimmy.

Camilla gazed after him, hurrying down a path that did not head anywhere near the library, and ran her teeth over her lower lip. Just under two weeks until her next tournament match. She wouldn't have it so easy this time. Mercy McDaniels, the 31st seed, had won a game and shown she was no magical slouch.

Ever since the Play-In, classes had passed in a fugue of impatience, sitting there waiting to be let out so she could go train or meditate and practice her magical handling in her dorm room. All she could think about was if she was wasting time, whether she should be training instead of doing whatever she was doing. Even when she was eating in the cafeteria, or walking to class, or picking out her outfit, it was all she could think about. Would he have been training? Antonio D'Angelo wouldn't have been taking idle meals with his friends, he wouldn't have spent fifteen minutes picking out a top this morning and getting dressed. No, he'd have been pouring over magical theory, practicing his visualization. All that wasted time made her furious. She'd catch herself talking with Grace and Jacob and the others at dinner about something stupid and suddenly it would be there in her mind: You're wasting time. And she'd be unable to shake it from her head and the dinner would be ruined. Sometimes she felt like screaming at herself but then there were other people around and that would just simply not be good for her reputation.

She should just go train.

But what if Jacob really was dong something stupid? Camilla grimaced. She worried about him sometimes. He was taking this vampire too lightly.

That decided it. She would follow him, make sure he wasn't getting into any trouble. It might give her an opportunity to practice some spells, too.

"Grab me some coffee, will you?" Camilla asked Grace.

Grace didn't ask anything, just nodded.

Bless you. Camilla thought.

She waved a cheery goodbye to Blake and Archie, the latter jumping like he'd been electrocuted and bidding her farewell.

She cut across the grass to the path Jacob had taken. She could still see him, maybe a hundred metres ahead of her, hurrying towards the Vanderbilt building, Richter building, and the guest residence.

She stopped behind a tree and engaged her magic. She cast a spell she had pestered and pestered her father to teach her until he'd reluctantly given in. The air in front of her shimmered, as if she were looking through warped glass. It would be projecting what was behind her in front of her, and vice versa, rendering her effectively invisible. Her father said the most effective way to do it was with Consumption, but that spell was far too advanced for her now.

She stepped out from behind the tree and hurried after Jacob. Two older, blonde haired girls wearing tight jeans and too-revealing blouses were coming along the path towards her. Camilla ran onto the grass and around them. One of the girls frowned in her direction, but the two harlots kept walking. She'd no doubt heard Camilla's footsteps. The spell created a little bubble around her, and while the rendering warped at the edges or if she was moving too quickly, unless someone looked closely they wouldn't notice. The spell required a lot of magic up front to get the bubble up, but only a trickle to keep it working.

Jacob entered the guest residence and Camilla sprinted as fast as she could to catch up to him, silently cursing herself, fully aware that if someone looked toward her they'd see a ripple of warped air and imagery as if a giant fishbowl were moving along the path. She could be training instead. She could be working on combat spells for the tournament instead of useless stuff like this one. Goddamn him.

Camilla caught the door with her foot and slid in, hoping no one noticed it catch.

She froze. Jacob was right in front of her. If she reached out her hand she'd be able to touch that scruffy hoodie of his. At least he was wearing jeans today.

"Sophia?" Jacob called out.

Camilla watched as Jacob bargained his way into the guest residence. Moron. She could have gotten him in here no questions asked with this spell if he'd only asked. But nope, he was Mr I Have To Do Everything Myself. Ugh. She should let him feel the consequences of that. Then he would know better. And at least she could get some useful training in.

But... if he actually got hurt she'd never forgive herself. But after this escapade she was going to have a talk with him. Yes. This was the last straw. The straw that would hopefully force her to muster up the courage to just tell him to involve her in this stuff, otherwise she'd end up sneaking around like a goofball all the time.

Jacob somehow negotiated his way past Sophia and into the guest residence. Camilla followed him through the halls and up the stairs. She watched him as he walked, oblivious to her presence. Ooh, she was angry with him. This priest better not be a dead end.